Chantal - Have Laptop Will Travel

In fact, it was my family’s idea for me to move into IT: learn a programming language, earn lots of money, and work anywhere in the world. What I actually want to do is to be able to go anywhere in the world, talk to people and observe, and write about what I’ve learned. There’s a story in everything; I want to tell it. I’ve been writing since the day I could pick up a pencil and use it, and haven’t stopped yet. Truth be told, I don’t want to be fixing people’s technical problems or designing databases – at least, not once I’ve gotten all the stories I need out of it.

I wrote that last week to support my application for a writing job in Twickenham. Actually it’s a very good summary of all I planned to write in this piece. Certainly I’m more used to defending my decision to work in IT when I’m a qualified archaeologist; I was a bit stumped initially at having to describe why I was looking for a writing job after working in IT.

I’ve always written. I wrote a play about dinosaurs when I was about four or five, and forced the rest of my family to participate. Before I hit double figures I was writing a series of two-page pieces on the people in my life. At high school, I was working on a serial piece with my friend: each evening we would take turns in furthering the lives of our two characters. I think its overall name was ‘The Deteriorating Talent of Mog and Chi’, our nicknames, but actually, thanks to Cornelia’s contributions, it ended up being called ‘Times out of Bed.’ Since A-levels I’ve been hard-pressed to write fiction (the result of too many history and then archaeology essays), although I had a spurt at the end of last year when I was extremely bored at work and trying to churn out one fiction piece a day, if only to brush up my skills and redefine my style.

I had just been going through the soul-searching mentioned above. Temping really is deadening and soul-destroying. It may surprise you about the industries you thought you would never want to work in; also it can give you an extremely strong aversion to the industry you are most passionate about. My main problem was, I had been doing secretarial, admin and PA work for so long, I was very certain I hated it, but very unfocussed as to what else I might actually want to be doing. My father at the time was trying to help me, trying to define my potential career for life. When you’ve never had a job last longer than five months, that’s a scary concept. I think it was around that time that I bought Michael Crichton’s ‘Timeline’. I haven’t reread it in a long time (actually I think I had bought it a year before then, but it fits the storyline nicely), so don’t know if I would actually recommend it. What struck me about the book was its bibliography: four and a half pages of minimum-size font. If you look inside one of his book covers, you will see that he has covered a wide range of topics. What this guy does, it seems, is pick a topic, research it to death, write a bestseller, earn s**tloads of money then pick another topic. That guy’s my role model. Plus I can write better than he can.

I seem to be destined to jump from one industry to another – one of the customers in my last job emailed me her career summary, and asked me for mine. I wrote her a heavily edited version, but it was still almost two days before I heard from her again. Before helpdesk, I was working in Social Services. Before that, running a dance information service. Before that, Red Cross then a housing association. You get the picture. Plus I’m varyingly active on the music and dance scenes, and too friendly and talkative for my own good. Do you see a theme here? Continue these uncontrollable career swings, but actually make an effort to get some material out of each. How great it would be to be able to indulge each of my hobbies or interests, knowing I can write a bestseller on each and not worry about having too schizophrenic a CV.

So it was around that time, end of last year, that I started writing again. Even in lulls, I’ve been a prolific letter-writer, then emailer and text messager. By contrast, I hate phones and avoid them at every chance. I spent a month travelling all over Central America over Christmas and New Year’s, hoping that I would be able to speak to enough people in enough depth to obtain enough material. I’ve written two travel articles, and partly blame my lack of writing on my lack of travelling. I spent hours talking to a Nicaraguan ex-soldier, but felt that his story alone would be too biased. Only one of those stories have made it onto my website and weblog, ‘Choices’, although I’m considering posting another, ‘Fantasia.’ I guess partly I’m worried about trying fiction again in case I turn out to be another Charles de Lint wannabe.

I know that I have enough experiences and stories in my head which I could write about alone: backpacking through Mexico and Central America when I was 15, my mother managing a rock bank after our return. Working as a belly dancer, being London’s only jazz/flamenco/reggae harper. Dancing for bands on the acoustic circuit. Being fired for not being accepted into the office clique, or for swearing at the switchboard. Working on the set of a Discovery documentary. The people I’ve met. And yet I shrink away from writing anything vaguely autobiographical, resent the pieces I’ve posted so far for being too personal.

I’m aware that the pieces I’ve posted may read like pre-prepared emails, but I’m hoping that that will even out with practice. Part of the purpose of my weblog was to narrate my observations and experiences in Dublin, and certainly I’ve referred friends to my website rather than actually reply to their emails. In one of my long talks with my brother before I moved here, I told him about how my ideal job would be as a writer of some sorts, probably as a columnist, and he suggested weblogging. I’m hoping it will give me the practice and experience I need, perhaps even exposure, whilst also allowing me to write about all the things bumping about in my head crying out for expression. Although there’s little I love more than a good conversation, and I definitely don’t have nearly enough of them at present, I prefer communicating by writing as it helps structure my thoughts, research ideas and express myself more clearly. For a year or more I did counselling by email, which allowed me to do exactly that: I had my little library by the computer, and would spend an hour or more on each email, ensuring I’d studied their email thoroughly and analysed the situation to the best of my ability.

My brother emailed me today to say he’s worried that if I leave IBM and Dublin, which at present I have every intention of doing, I will cease to write. I don’t think so. When I first arrived in Dublin, I would sit cross-legged on my hotel bed, typing out each new piece. Okay, so it’s harder to do that here, in the new house: it’s antisocial, whether I write in my bedroom or in the living room. I need silence, so tonight Olivier is wearing headsets while he plays a computer game; on Saturday, when I spent five and a half hours writing, it was to a backdrop of Coldplay so I’m not sure how coherent those pieces actually turned out to be.

If I return to London, at least I don’t need to suffer passively anymore there. I’m far more active there, which means participating in a lot more activities and meeting a far wider range of people than I ever will here. I’d hate to give up writing now that I’ve started again. I might be too busy, or too tired, or just too engrossed in something crap on TV, but still I should hope that I can allocate my two-hour sessions to produce something worth reading, worth writing. Hell, at least I’d stop whingeing about IBM and Dublin….